Life Is Full of Surprises
by Zander1210
Summary: After last year's magical and unpredictable events, it was enough for our favorite teenage hero to figure things were going to be normal again in her town of Storybrooke, Maine. But, of course, this is Emma Swan we're talking about. And she has the worst luck. *Note: THIS IS A SEQUEL TO A NEW DAWN!*
1. When We See Each Other Again

**A/N: Okay, I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit weary continuing this story, but many people have asked me to keep going with it. And, so, as I don't like to disappoint my wonderful readers, I'm posting a brand-new chapter one for ****_Life is Full of Surprises_****. Please ignore all old Life is Full of Surprises chapters, because I'm rewriting and recreating them. This story starts off a few months after ****_A New Dawn_****. **

**Thank you for your support, and my love goes out to you, **

**-Zander1210**

**_Image citation_: forum/topics/attention-earthborn**

* * *

SEPTEMBER 1ST

After last year's magical and unpredictable events, it was enough for me to figure things were going to be normal again. But, of course, living in a town called Storybrooke, Maine (and, yes, I agree the name is nothing but corny and unoriginal), where magic lurks around every corner, evil witches are ready to take you out of the picture, transfiguration is used for fun, and spells, potions, and curses are used for either the good or bad, can ruin your parade of wanting normality and calmness come back in a life that experiences everything listed above. Magic has become a nuisance for both my new-found family and my boyfriend, leading to events I don't want to even begin explaining. But nothing, not even my ability to use magic, could compare to the misconceptional and utter lies of a happy beginning to the start of senior year. Again, this is Emma Swan we're talking about.

And I have the worst luck.

...

I had no intentions of getting out of bed as my alarm beeped endlessly, annoyingly, and hauntingly; had no intentions of unwinding from my sprawled out position, tucked under the safe confines of my bed, to get ready for my first tortuous day of senior year; had no intentions of even stopping to smell the steaming coffee brewing downstairs; had no intentions of watching as my parents made a big deal out of seeing me arise from the dead and put one foot in the door for the hopes of, what Mary Margaret calls, a 'productive future'. The truth inevitably was, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, what hopes I had for my future, a way to handle myself out in the 'real world', other than spending every waking moment with Neal Cassidy. But senior year was granted to us all to discover who we are and what we want to do with ourselves, however complicated and challenging it may seem at first, therefore benefiting us in ways we cannot describe in the years to come.

Lost in my thoughts, I began to think of the endless possibilities I might take upon in my future, but I was rudely interrupted by the steady pound of fists against my locked bedroom door and the low murmur of an unmistakable voice wafting through the cracks in the otherwise crumbling, brick-laden wall.

_David._ Of course he'd be the one to wake me up, already in his happy-go-lucky and chipper attitude that I took offense to in the wee hours of the morning. My father usually tore inside my bedroom and threw open the windows, allowing the bright Maine sunlight to cast unwanted shadows and streaks of light across my bedspread, but I purposely locked my door last night to prevent that from happening. And before you go ahead and shake your head with disdain, thinking how lucky I am to actually have someone wake me up in the morning, let me tell you three things: first, I don't _want_ to be awake and climb out of bed; second, I have an _alarm clock_ and I don't need another reminder to get out of bed every few minutes from David himself; and third, I only have on a pair of booty shorts and a _sports_-_bra_. See my point?

"Emma, c'mon, wake up! You have school today!" David called, his voice muffled between his stream of fist-pounding and my own alarm clock beeping wildly. It was like a nightmare, hearing both annoying reminders of what was to come blast through my ears, inside and out. I couldn't escape it either way, because my alarm clock ticked away in here and David shouted away outside of my door. Without another moment of hesitation, I slapped my palm against the top of my clock and groaned loudly, hoping David received my message.

The pounding upon my door stopped and David's voice was no longer audible. Soon after, I heard his feet thump downstairs into the kitchen, far away from the loft, finally basking in the relief that I was up, the zombie I was. I could almost picture what both he and Mary Margaret were doing right this very minute -reading the newspaper with a cup of steaming hot coffee, sitting back against their chairs with their bowls of cereal untouched. It was the same thing everyday, mind you.

I reluctantly kicked back the covers surrounding my body and searched through a pile of mostly clean clothes for a pair of skinny jeans, a maroon sweater, and a black leather, asymmetrical vest. With my black high-top sneakers tucked under my arm, I padded towards the bathroom and leaped into the shower, letting the water drown away my sorrows for the coming day.

When I was finally done and presently ready to face the world twenty minutes later, I barely stepped into the kitchen when David, oblivious to my presence, called for me to wake up again. Funny, he thought I'd still be asleep. I smiled in spite of myself and crossed my arms in a typical bad-ass stance, ready to make a sarcastic remark. But, before I could do so, Mary Margaret, spotting me from the corner of her eye, exclaimed, "Oh, you're up... Good,"

David turned around and raised an eyebrow, lost in thought as he stared at me. I blinked and turned my head ever-so slightly to spy my mother, already donned in a flowered dress for her position as fourth-grade teacher at Storybrooke Elementary School. "Yeah, I am. Glad I can always surprise you all for something as simple as waking up," I retorted.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Mary Margaret asked, ignoring my last comment. "You need your energy for your first day of _senior_ year."

Great, just what I wanted to avoid. What I don't understand at all is why people make such a big deal out of the first day of school, let alone your first day of senior year of high school. Like I said before, senior year is only the point in your life in which you go ahead and make up your decision of what you want to do with yourself for the rest of your life. It's not _that_ big of a deal.

I rolled my green eyes that looked hidden behind my thick-framed glasses and black eyeliner. "What do you have to eat?" I questioned, plopping down on a bar stool, away from the looks of my bewildered yet proud parents. Mary Margaret followed me into the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator, taking stock of what we have hidden away on the shelving. After glancing at the clock on the wall of our industrial apartment, I added, "And can you make it quick? I have to go soon if I want a spot in the lot."

"Right, sure you do. My guess is that you just wanna leave early to see _Neal_," David muttered under his breath, earning a flare of anger from Mary Margaret, along with her death stare I always seemed to cower behind.

"You know, I'd love to say that you're wrong, but seeing as how you make a very obvious point to hating my boyfriend-..." I began, ready to take on my father and his sometimes hurtful tactics regarding Neal, ones that I will not stand to hear whenever they're made, even under the softest of voices and whispers.

As I was about to continue, Mary Margaret interjected, holding up a box of pancake mixture and a bowl of fruit. "Emma," she said in a firm voice that instantly drew my attention away from David. Turning to look at her, my mother then added to me, "what do you want? Pancakes or fruit?" She always knew when things would escalate between my father and I, and she always knew how to prevent them from growing worse than they truly were.

I reached over the counter for a clementine and grabbed my brown-paper bagged lunch. "Thanks," I grumbled, jumping up from my seat and hastily retreating towards the front door. While slinging my leather messenger bag over my shoulder, I barely heard my father try to make his apology to me over my slamming of the apartment door, not bothering to hide my anger.

...

The line of cars trying to enter the parking lot of Storybrooke High School wrapped around the corner and past the storefronts along the side street off of the one main drag we had in this town. Engines growled, tires squealed, and students tapped their fingers against the steering wheels as they waited for their chance to drive forward, into the array of parking spots that would soon be taken up. Bright yellow buses pulled into the front of the massive school, lower classmen flooding out in a chaotic mess of loud voices, scampering feet, and the buzz of nervousness, all the while standing out by the green grass that opened up onto a field that was dedicated for our track runners.

Because I was a senior, I had a reserved parking spot, unlike what I told Mary Margaret and David. I didn't want to give them, especially David, the victory of being right -that I was only leaving the apartment early to see Neal before school sprang into session. Which, I entirely was.

Leaning against the driver's seat door, my backpack still resting upon my shoulder, I watched as seniors pulled into their rightful spots in the front of the parking lot and as the juniors pulled into the lot in the back of the school. Each car looked the same in the dreary Maine weather, threatening to drench us in rain at any given moment, and the clouds resting in the dark sky weren't helping the matter at all. My car, my pride and joy, a yellow Volkswagen Beetle, stood out from all the rest of the blue, black, and red cars driving into the lot now, and I felt oddly flattered that I was the odd one out.

Finally, I spotted Neal's beat-up truck park into his assigned lane, the ties sticking out horizontally as the engine was killed. He stepped out of the driver's seat and closed the door behind him with a loud squeak, the L.L. Bean backpack he had had since freshman year hanging off his shoulders and tearing at the seams. Wearing straight-leg jeans, low chukka boots, a gray V-neck sweater that fit perfectly to his muscular body, black Ray-Ban sunglasses despite the dark sky, and a brown leather jacket that I knew smelt like his sweet aftershave and the must of his truck, Neal walked enviously calm and collected towards me, as the girls making their way into school stopped to swoon. Neal was handsome, to say the very least, what with his muscular body, sparkling brown eyes, plump lips, tanned skin, and thick brown hair that was gelled up like a mountain peak in the front, still tousled with bedhead.

I stood waiting for him with my back pressed against the door of my car, my own curly blonde hair whipping in the wind and creating a somewhat angelic vibe to those who gave me their attention. But... that was everyone _now_. I'm not just known as Emma Swan, eighteen year old orphan who came to Storybrooke, Maine last year with hopes of finding a family; I'm also known as Emma Swan, the Savior who broke the Dark Curse and brought happy endings back to this town and restored the memories of the townsfolk's fairytale identities.

Yes, I'm yours truly, the Savior. Wherever I go, stares follow me with piercing gazes, whispers and rumors spread like wildfire, and I'm continuously bombarded with praises of thanks for the gracious deed I had done for the town. I didn't mind their hugs, bright smiles, or 'thank yous' until they became so insistent and repetitive, which then turned into sour and snide comments how I was deducting the attention from the real and important issues of the town. More than once, with all the focus on me, I lurched into a rage of anger that I don't feel the need to explain anymore than I have to. If you knew me well enough, you'd understand.

"Hey, babe," Neal greeted, interrupting my thoughts. Unlike the rest of the people in this town, my boyfriend and a group of my close friends had stayed loyal to me and didn't take advantage of the 'greatness', people sometimes liked to say, or the 'selfishness', others would say, I had done. We were teenagers that cared for each other, protected each other, and came to each other for anything. It was the bond that had been created that led us to think of our little group as a family, and I felt more connected to this family than the biological one I had back at the apartment. "Are you ready for senior year?" he asked, snaking his arm around me and bringing me into his chest.

I shook my head into his shirt and was able to catch a whiff of his magnificent scent. "Nope, but I guess we can't do anything to stop it,"

My boyfriend smiled, and I instantly felt myself smiling with him. Neal could do that to anyone -make their frown turn into a smile-, which was another one of the things I loved so much about him. "As long as we're together, it's gonna be cool, right?" he asked, though it wasn't as questioning as it was supposed to be. Instead, it was more affirmative, like he knew the answer already. And so did I.

"Of course," I replied, dipping my lips upwards to lock with his. In an instant, I wrapped my arms around Neal's neck and felt my hands comb through his thick hair, as his gruff hands pulled me closer to his chest and brought me into his protective grip. Our love for each other was a force to be reckoned with, so much like a magnetic bond that pulsated in grief when we were apart. I couldn't stand to be without him, and yet our parents had the brilliant idea to separate us over the summer to establish 'some space' from the events that had happened last year.

The Dark Curse was broken through true love's kiss, which I gave to Neal when he bit into a poisoned apple to try and make me believe in the Curse, and after all that it had brought out in our love, our parents wanted us to live out the rest of our summer as normal teenagers -Neal battling some post-Curse heath issues, while I tried to take my mind off of everything by hanging out with Josh, Christian, Lola, Kat, and Amanda, my second 'family'.

"Then we don't have to worry about it," Neal decided, pulling away from the kiss reluctantly. "And promise me something," he added hesitantly, staring down at me with a seriousness I wasn't aware my Neal Cassidy could have. "Promise me that we won't be separated again, that we won't let _our parents _tear us apart. I spent a whole summer without you and I don't think I could spend another day."

"Hey," I interrupted arguably. "all those times I snuck out of my room, narrowly missing being caught by Mary Margaret and David, must have paid off! I didn't just do that for anybody, you know. I did it for you."

Neal threw his head back and vaguely smiled, a small laugh escaping his lips. "And I did the same for you, but we both know it wasn't the same. There's something about sneaking around compared to actually, willingly seeing someone that makes a difference,"

I shrugged, turning away from my car with my backpack tucked onto my shoulder. Before I knew it, Neal's comforting presence appeared and his arm slid around my body guiding be towards the torture zone we called school.

...

And just like that, all eyes were on me.

The green wooden front doors of the school banged shut behind Neal and I, a loud noise in the otherwise quiet school. Lower classmen, afraid of being yelled at on the first day of school by our monstrous principal, talked in soft chatter and hushed murmurs, while the fierce turning of locker combinations echoed across the crumbling structure of Storybrooke High School. But heads jerked towards the front of the school where I stood, now hand in hand with Neal, their minds registering that the Savior had arrived for her long and excruciating day of classes.

I froze, somehow panicked, and buried myself deeper into Neal's leather jacket, feeling his hand squeeze mine in reassurance. Lower classmen's eyes drilled holes into me, following me with an unwanted glare, but I fought to stare straight ahead as the awkwardness consumed me and heads tracked my every move. Neal, noticing my unusual nervousness, took note of the expectant faces and yelled in a loud voice, "Got something better to do than watch her every move?! It's not _that_ interesting! Get a life, all of you,"

"That's enough, Mr. Cassidy," our former history teacher hissed, standing by the door to her classroom with a scowl on her face and arms crossed above her bulging stomach. "There's no need to make a scene."

But Neal -I give him all the credit in the world- didn't back down, and instead snapped his head towards Mrs. Deride and added, "Right, _I'm_ the one making a scene," in his usual, sarcastic manor. "Look at the rest of these idiots! They're the ones making Emma feel like an outsider."

Mrs. Deride ticked her teeth together, storming towards both Neal and I with a stomp in her step. In a low and harsh whisper, she growled, "If you don't want to earn yourself a detention on the first day of school, I suggest you quiet yourself down and leave the rest of the student body alone. We don't make exceptions for students, especially ones that take away the safe and welcoming environment we have created here at this high school,"

"You see, Mrs. Deride," Neal began, an equally threatening tone escaping his voice. "this 'safe and welcoming environment' Storybrooke High has, sucks. Emma, here, is neither safe nor welcomed with the nosy and annoying stares of these scrawny lower classmen. So, _I_ suggest that instead of lecturing me about bothering the student body and lowering my voice in this crappy hallway, you tell all of _them_," he pointed towards the star-struck students huddling near their lockers. "to mind their _freakin'_ business."

A vein in our former teacher's forehead trembled, wanting to bulge out of her skin and run away. But, containing her anger with a simple deep breath, Mrs. Deride spoke in an agitated voice, "Detention, Mr. Cassidy, and you too, Miss. Swan, after school today. Be in my classroom at precisely 2:15. Understood?"

Neal stepped in front of me before I could utter a word of protest. "She didn't even do anything! It was all me! Just give me the detention,"

"Oh, gladly," Mrs. Deride smiled. "You, Mr. Cassidy, have detention the rest of the week with me and your father will be notified of your behavior, and Miss. Swan," she turned to me, her evil vein still visible against the hatred she has for Neal. "you have detention just for today, but your parents will both be told of your misbehavior as well."

I immediately countered back, barely containing my own anger, "I didn't say anything! What 'misbehavior' did I even do?!"

Mrs. Deride cocked her head to the side and bit back another evil smile. "Shall I make it another extra day, or would you rather just suffice for the single day I originally gave you?"

My mouth hanging open with one arm poised in frustration, I muttered a curse word under my breath and replied, "Fine, I'll just take the single day. Thanks for being _so_ generous," I knew that my own sarcasm would earn me that second day of being with the horrible, greedy, and selfish presence of Mrs. Deride, but she merely shrugged her small shoulders, gave me a victorious wink, and stormed quickly back to her classroom as if nothing had happened in the first place.

...

Seniors controlled the top floor of Storybrooke Academy like it was their kingdom. Aside from the beautiful view above the tree tops surrounding our little town in Maine, our floor held the best and newest lockers, almost double in space as opposed to the ones downstairs and positioned in a way so that there was three bright red lockers built along the left wall, five going across the center wall, and another three going across the right wall, each creating a fortress. In addition, the top floor of the school had the cleanest bathrooms, coolest water from the water fountains, and most of the up-to-date technology in the classrooms.

Kat, Lola, and Amanda had their lockers next to each other on the left side of our fortress, while Josh, Christian, Neal, and I took the lockers in the center wall, the remaining four lockers unoccupied from the dwindling number of graduating seniors. The seven of us figured if we can convince our advisory teachers to giving us the locker combinations for the last four lockers, we can equally split the space between us and store our extra belongings on the shelves, like coats, gym bags, or instruments for band class.

"This year is gonna rock!" Josh bellowed, slamming the door to his locker shut with implied enthusiasm. "You know, aside from the usual detention every now and then, it's still gonna rock!" he added after thinking back our junior year of high school and how many detentions and police reports we all managed to rack up.

Christian, Josh's twin brother, placed a hand on the dial of his locker, spinning it shut and closing it was a bang. "I don't know about you guys but if I get another detention or 'violation of conduct' notice on my permanent record, my parents'll ship me off to military school. Josh, too. And, trust me, I have no interest in that,"

Neal shut his own locker and leaned against it, cocking his head to the side and give Josh and Christian a once-over. "Military school, huh? My father'll just scream at me. Not that I'm not used to it anyways," my boyfriend muttered, dropping his backpack to the ground and turning to face me. "What about you, Em? What'll your parents do when they hear about today?"

"Well, it's the first day of school and I already managed to receive one detention ... I probably won't be seeing you guys anytime soon aside from in school," I replied, my head ducked into my locker. On the inside part of the door, I hung a small picture of Neal and I, smiling into the camera as the sun set behind us, while a second picture of Kat, Lola, and Amanda, each dressed and posing like Charlie's Angels for Halloween last year hung diagonally across from the picture with both Neal and I. The last picture I had was of Christian, Josh, and me swimming in their pool, the underwater camera taking a very cool image against the light blue background.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Kat pointed out, emptying her backpack into her locker, only keeping a few pencils, notebooks and folders pressed into the fraying pockets. "Deride was being totally unfair to both of you. I mean, Neal was just trying to stick up for you, Em, and you were just standing there, doing nothing!"

I rolled my eyes and shut my own locker, giving Kat a bemused smile. "It's not like I can do anything about it now. Deride probably already contacted Mary Margaret and David, informing them of my 'irresponsible behavior' or something," Neal slid closer to me, entwining my hand through his without another moments thought.

Lola looked back and forth between all of us, shaking her head in disbelief. "Can we talk about something else? Preferably anything other than detention and Mrs. Deride," The sensible one, always thinking on her toes, and involved everyone's life, Lola had changed a lot since last year, what with her lean figure, red-tipped hair, and preppy attire. She was almost a different person, but we still loved her all the same.

"Okay," Amanda deadpanned, speaking for the first time since we all arrived on the top floor of our school. "How about the threats Regina's been making towards Emma?"

Neal dropped my hand, the blood in his face draining quickly. "The what?" he questioned with unease.

Stern glares from all around caught my attention, though they were directed at Amanda, who was now looking at the ground with cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "I ... I thought they knew," Amanda murmured, looking past Neal and I, and at Josh, Christian, Lola, and Kat. Leaving us in the dark, the rest of our friends shook their heads quickly, silently telling Amanda to say no more.

"What threats?" Neal asked again, his protectiveness rounding a corner. "Somebody tell me what's going on!"

There was silence for a few minutes, each one of us glancing back and forth expectantly until the first period bell rang. Furrowing my eyebrow in thought, I quickly walked towards my first class of the day, leaving Neal and the others behind, watching me chug along without knowing what would lay ahead in my life -both the good or the bad.

I'm taking four AP classes -which include English, Anatomy, British history, and Calculus-, a full-year journalism class, Honors Spanish 4, and a half-year gym class. Study hall is always last period of the day for me, taken place in our advisory classrooms or in the library, but the rest of my classes were spaced out between the school. Some days I stayed downstairs for the beginning of the day, while other days I stayed on the top floor, ruling it as my own. Of my classes, Kat and Josh were in most of them, while Neal, Christian, and Amanda had at least two or three with me.

It was now fourth period -dreadful Calculus class- and I, of course, received another detention. No surprise there, right? I didn't do anything to provoke our teacher, Mr. Humbler, the way Neal did with Mrs. Deride, but I merely proved him wrong on one of the problems from our summer math packet. He claimed I was trying to humiliate him in front of his students, though he already does that himself with the sweat marks under his arms, and act superior to him and my classmates.

Kat tried to stick up for me, claiming that I was just trying to correct a mistake, but Mr. Humbler ignored her completely and dug out an unopened package of detention notices from his desk drawer, muttering to himself as he scribbled my name down in barely legible handwriting. Throwing the slip at me with an unneeded force, Mr. Humbler strolled back to the front of the classroom and began to go over the next problem.

But, after reading another answer my teacher made in his small, cramped font when doing the next problem, I immediately raised my hand and waited to be called on, reluctantly, I might add, by Mr. Humbler himself. "Yes, _Emma Swan_?" he grumbled, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Uh, I found another error in your work," I said softly, a mendacious smile curling onto my lips.

...

The rest of the day went by smoothly, aside from the piercing stares of lower classmen and their voices caught mid-sentence in a whisper about me as I walked past them coolly as can be. I learned that from Neal -always be confident in what you do, how you put yourself out in the world, and with what you have to say- because no one will respect you otherwise. It couldn't be more true. As soon as I walked past the huddles of sophomore and freshman, looking oddly comfortable in my position, people stopped to watch, their mouths instantly snapping shut.

I made it through detention without a problem also, though Mr. Humbler came into Mrs. Deride's room and gave me a stony stare, before shoving a pile of papers into her hands. Neal looked at me in question, but I shook my head and shrugged, telepathically telling him that an explanation would be given later. For the rest of my time in detention, I managed to finish my Calculus, English, and Spanish review homework, leaving nothing for me to do when I got home.

Neal and I parted ways in the lot, him promising me that he would call or eventually sneak over to my apartment in the evening, while I returned his words by planting a soft, pulsating kiss on his lips. In that moment, where everything was perfectly round and relaxing, I knew would just as quickly change into dreadfulness and craziness as soon as I stepped into the apartment. I took the longest time possible to drive home, getting beeped at multiple times by cars that eventually passed me on the road, and staying glued into the Bug when I reached the familiar brick building, idling by the curb.

The curtain fluttered in the upstairs window, a face popping through the fabric, revealing David and his raging features. Breathing deeply inwardly, I kicked opened the driver's seat door, almost knocking David off of his feet. How he had managed to fly from the apartment to the street was beyond me, but I tried not to think about it as I slammed the door behind me shut and pushed my way towards the front door.

"Not one, but _two_ detentions on your first day of school?! Seriously, Emma?" David quipped, blocking my path. "How could you behave so badly to earn two detentions?! You don't even do anything on the first day of school! It was Neal's fault, wasn't it? I knew I shouldn't have let you date him! He's a bad influence that's rubbing off on you, not in a good way either, I might add. When your mother got that call from your principal, she seemed like she was going to explode! And when she ever told me..."

Maybe it was his towering stance over me, or his loud voice ringing in my eyes, or the facts he was laying out for me, or the tiredness I had begun to feel, but I didn't wait another second to bolt up the front stairs, unlock the door, skip two steps at a time up to the loft, and collapse into the bathroom. My nerves getting the best of me, I hugged the toilet and threw up, staying that way for what seemed like hours.

...

Confession: Neal and I had a little rendezvous once. Just once. But it was enough to make me stop and think amongst my throwing up that possibly, out of a very slim chance, that that was the cause to my occurring sickness. I hadn't gotten my -_fill in the blank here_- or used -_fill in the blank here_-, and so, out of a long shot, I steadied myself long enough to take a pregnancy test.

Well, oh CRAP.

Five minutes later, I had my answer:

Positive.

I was pregnant.


	2. Keep Me Going

The rest of the night I stayed locked in my bedroom, too queasy and shocked to make any appearances downstairs. When dinner was ready, I made no effort to move from my bed; when Kat called, I made no jump to answer my phone right away; and when Neal wanted to Skype, I made a point of myself to ignore it and bask in the shame I was feeling. Mary Margaret and David were worried about me, but every time they tried to coax me out of my room, I shooed them away and assured that I was perfectly fine. Only I wasn't, and they were starting to figure that out.

Even though I tried to pretend I was perfectly fine by the next morning, I knew my parents could see right through it. They didn't say one word to me, however, and I couldn't help but feel that maybe they knew what was going on. But how could they? Mary Margaret and David were clueless as to my intimate relationship with Neal, and neither one of them were around to notice the little signs of my pregnancy.

I still wasn't used to that word -pregnancy. I've heard of teenagers getting pregnant at their young age, but I never thought that it would happen to me. Neal and I were careless that one time, and I'm paying the price as I speak -because there really is a little baby growing inside my stomach. It was hard to grasp; that a human being could be inside me; that this human being would look and act like both Neal and I; that I was going to be a mother.

And that's _if_ I keep the baby.

Nevertheless, early the next morning I was prepared to go about my life like any normal teenager and keep my little secret to myself. Of course I would eventually have to tell Neal and Mary Margaret and David _and_ whoever else needed to know, yet I ignored that logic and forced myself to think that I would figure everything out later, when I was alone in the safe confines of my bedroom.

But then everything changed. Again.

Instead of being strong and acting like my usual self, I dodged Neal whenever I could -because just looking at those cheeky, side-long smiles he gave me made me travel back into time the moment I looked down at my pregnancy test and found out that our little carelessness backfired and made me become pregnant. I wasn't ready to face anyone, to confront anyone, or to confine them about my secret, so I kept to myself.

Any spare chance I got, I used it on the rooftop hideaway or in the library, where I knew no one could find me in my little corner of books. Before and after classes I was the first one in and out, and during each subject, my friends tried to get my attention to no avail. When lunch came around the corner, I dug my brown paper bag out from my locker and practically sprinted towards the library, shoving lower classmen and getting lost in a sea of kids.

The library was massive, with towering mahogany shelves that extended from floor to ceiling with books of all genres. Matching tables were placed between the shelves, each one having two desk lamps on either side made entirely from stained glass and metal. The librarian's desk stood off to the side, abandoned for the time being as she grabbed her lunch from the staff room.

I shrugged at the openness of the library, and stooped low behind a bookshelf, taking out my own book and my lunch. While I was absorbed into the text and chapters of _The City of Bones_, I had yet to notice Kat and Lola approach. They eyed my untouched lunch, scanned my up and down, and placed their hands on their hips in a fierce stance.

"Ahem," Kat said, clearing her throat.

I looked up slowly from my book, eyes still trained on a sentence I was in the midst of finishing. When I did finally look up, I jumped and hit my head against the wood of the bookshelf above, registering that I was caught red-handedly ditching all of my friends at lunch. "Crap," I muttered, rubbing the top of my head sorely.

Lola snorted and grumbled, "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"

"What?" I snapped, shutting my book and staring up at my friends with big, doe eyes, as if I was a small child getting reprimanded by my adult parents.

Kat sighed, swinging her lunch bag from arm to arm as she waited for just the right moment to reply. It was otherwise silent in the library, occupied only by three teenage girls, and so the time ticked by slowly. Every minute no one talked felt like an hour too many. "How come you've been avoiding all of us? Neal's worried."

I rolled my eyes at her comment, and replied, "If Neal was worried, he would've come here and talked to me himself."

"Did you guys get into a fight?" Lola questioned, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. To everyone who knew us, Neal and I were a dynamic duo, the very prospect of breaking our relationship into pieces almost as heart-stopping as how no cell phones were allowed to use during class. "What didja fight about? Was it bad? Are you guys gonna make-up? When did it happen? Tell us, Emma, tell us!"

"Neal and I didn't get into a fight, Lola!" I hissed, my loud and irritated voice echoing off the walls. "God, I just need to separate myself from everything right now." And at that moment, I felt the chance to just spit out my secret with hopes of it going and never coming back. I had no such luck, because my secret was going to affect me physically and mentally, and when people started asking questions, I wouldn't be able to hide it any longer.

Kat wrinkled her forehead together, reading as me if _I_ was _The City of Bones_ book. There was something I wasn't telling her that was obviously bugging me, but finding out what exactly would take a little more pushing. First, my best friend turned towards Lola and said, "Why don't you go grab a seat at our table? I'll be there in a few. Tell Neal that he doesn't need to worry." Lola was about to interject, but Kat followed up with a, "Seriously, just go" which convinced her all the rest.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence again, Kat took a seat next to me and stared straight ahead, knowing that I would crack under pressure at some point. We had almost all of our lunch period to spare, and she wasn't going anywhere until she told me what was on my mind. I delayed the topic, like usual, and asked instead, "How'd you find me?"

"I saw you bolt towards the library when I was leaving Ceramics class." Kat stated. "Lola was with me, so we came together. You've been ditching us –everyone- and we wanted to find out why by confronting you."

Playing around with my bag of potato chips, I shrugged and stayed mute. "I just wanna be left alone." I managed to whisper. "I have to figure things out because everything's gonna change if I don't."

Kat silently told me to eat my sandwich, but then continued to say, "Figure out what things? College?" she guessed, though that was the last thing that was on my mind. I already knew which colleges and universities I would apply to, which were anywhere away from Storybrooke, but what I wanted to major in has become a mystery I can't solve.

"No ... Just things," I cryptically informed.

"Well, I need to know what 'things' you're trying to figure out in order to help you, Em. That's all I want to do -not lecture you or make up your mind for you-, but put in my own insight. Do you understand?" Kat asked, swiping one of my chips in a playfully ridiculous notion. At lunch, she usually did steal my chips, just in a sneaky, mind-boggling way only Kat could figure out, yet her sloppiness by just picking up a chip amazed me idiotically.

My few minutes of normality turned tides, so that I was overcome with a wave of emotions. My eyes started to glisten with unshed tears and my body yearned to be hugged and comforted, very unlike my hard-core, independent Emma Swan vibe I gave off as soon as people met me. "I-I- Uh ... If I tell you something, can you promise to keep it between you and me?"

Kat held up her pinky finger like we were little kids and, after observing my serious features, answered, "'Course,"

I intertwined my own finger with hers, took a deep breath, and felt a few tears drop from my eyes. My voice shaky, I opened my mouth to croak, "Kat, I'm- I'm … pregnant with Neal's baby ... I found out yesterday after I took a test ... And I haven't told anyone except you because I'm scared what they'll say. Hell, I'm scared myself -and it's not like Emma Swan to be scared!" The wall surrounding both my emotions and my heart lowered and pools of tears splattered onto my cheeks, drenching me in an unknown feeling of numbness.

For a moment, Kat didn't say or do anything, until she wrapped her arms around me and murmured, "It's gonna be okay, Em. Everything's gonna be okay." At her words, I sobbed even louder, feeling that at this moment, nothing could get any better. I was stuck in an endless void that I couldn't grasp or process, and I was trapped in the remorse, sadness, shame, and nervousness that seemed to grab hold of me and bring me down even deeper. "Look, you're right, everything _is_ gonna change, but it's gonna be for the best. I mean, whatever you decided to do, you'll have Neal and you'll be able to have a family. Isn't that what you've always wanted? I mean, I know Mary Margaret and David are your biological parents, but you've always told me that you don't _feel_ like part of their family, and now you've got your own on the way. And if people _do_ hate you for the rest of your life, well, screw them! They know nothing. Whatever you decided is going to _benefit_ you, and you're gonna have all of us -Josh, Christian, Amanda, Lola, Neal, and I- by your side for everything."

I thumbed the tears away from my eyes and sniffled. "Thanks," I managed to whisper. "It's just being _this_ open and _this _vulnerable is scaring me just as much as carrying a baby around for nine months is. Everything that's happening feels so … surreal, like it shouldn't even be part of _my_ life, when in reality, it seriously is.

"It's called the frightening concept of change. Everyone goes through it at some point," Kat droned on in her typical fashion. "We get to be in the honeymoon stage of our life, and when the tables turn and new things start to occur, we take what we had for granted, hide from the change, and hope for the best. But, in the end, we all know that change has to be embraced. You may not notice it, Emma, but you've changed a lot since I first met you … And maybe this next phase in your life won't be as bad as you think."

"I guess, but, Kat, there's something else," I murmured, not entirely feeling the weight lifted off of my shoulders when I told her of the little secret I managed to keep hidden. There was another pang, a doubt that killed my insides and mocked my very existence, and I knew that because I put so much trust in her already, I might as well add to it. In a small voice, I said, "I just can't help but feel, and call me crazy if you want to, that Neal and I won't work out; that we're just in this relationship to humor ourselves, and that when something big like this happens, a game changer in our lives, he'll just abandon me and leave me to the streets. I'll be alone again, Kat … I'll truly be dust."

I felt Kat wrap another arm around my shoulders and pull me into her embrace. Hugging her back, I let my head rest against her shoulder and felt the salty tears trek down my cheeks, hoping she didn't mind that her shirt was going to be damp with my fears and worries. "You will not be alone, Emma. I can assure you that. And Neal … Dear God, he _adores_ you. You two, like any couple, just have to figure things out together. That's what a good love story is made up of –conflicts, finding your way, being together, hurting, healing, the good and bad moments. When you reach a bump in the road, he'll be by your side, sticking by you, because nothing, not even a dark curse or a baby, can get in the way of love. True love prevails, remember that."

With a guilty smile, I pushed away from Kat and muttered, "What a corny thing to say –'True love prevails',"

"It's true, though. Absolutely true," Kat smiled back.

…

Later that night, I was prepared to face Neal and explain to him what is going on without breaking down completely again. I hoped that when I told him about the baby and the pregnancy, the weight I still had felt when I was sputtering my secrets to Kat would soon disappear –because, seriously, my whole world felt like it was being dragged down by keeping this just to myself. I needed Neal, that was for certain; I needed his reassurance, his protective arms wrapped around my body, his small smiles that seemed to make the butterflies in my stomach fly away, his charm and understanding, and most importantly, his love. Taking what Kat said to heart and digging deep behind the overall simple message, I knew that what Neal and I had was true love, a pure kind of love that could only be reached when your love for another could never be broken.

So, at 9:30 PM, when I was leaning back against my desk chair, doodling wildly in the bare notebook paper I had laying around, the code-knock Neal and I shared echoed throughout the otherwise quiet nighttime air_. Knock-knock-knock-pause-knock-knock_, and then it repeated again_, knock-knock-knock-pause-knock-knock._

Smiling, I tip-toed towards the window and threw back the curtains, unlatched the window, and pulled it open. Neal swung his legs back and forth to gain distance and momentum to jump, and catapulted into my bedroom, landing in the beanbag chair that muted the _thud_ the hardwood floor would make if he had landed on those rickety boards.

Neal practically threw himself at me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me intently. It was as if we hadn't kissed in hundreds of years and we were just being reunited for the first time, his lips curving into a smile despite locking them onto my own. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, I reluctantly pulled away from his kiss, and mused, "What was _that_? I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved it and it was unexpected and everything, but-…" Before I could finish, Neal pulled me back into his grip and continued to kiss me, and I didn't object.

"I missed you," Neal murmured into my ear as he stopped. He studied me for a few minutes, with those huge brown eyes, taking everything in, and wrinkled his forehead together, knowing that I was _so_ keeping something from him. "Hey, what's wrong?" he finally asked, dropping his arms from around my waist.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and intertwined my fingers with his. "I think you should sit down first," I stalled, bringing him to my daybed and coaxing him to sit, very skeptically, I might add.

Neal motioned for me to sit next to him, but I ignored him and continued pacing in front of the bed, knowing that if I distracted myself as I told him what was on my mind, things might be that much easier. There was no hiding, however, from Neal's worried gaze, lingering on me for far longer than I was comfortable with. "Em, you're scaring me. What's going on?" he questioned, head twisting from left to right as I walked back and forth.

"Yesterday, when I got home from school, David cornered me and was lecturing me about … everything that had happened at school; how I got detention, how my actions, choices, and behavior could get me in trouble, how you could be a bad influence on me. And trust me, this conversation isn't about you and how you came into my life, because, Neal, David's wrong. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and I need you, much more than I need those two people I call my parents," As I was about to go on, Neal cut me off with a small smile.

"I couldn't imagine my life without you, Emma. You need to know that, all right?" Neal stated with a determined state of mind.

Nodding my head, I continued on, "Of course I know that. Anyways, as David was scaring the crap out of me with those blaring, evil green eyes … I panicked and ran away from him. When I got upstairs I threw up continuously. I thought that maybe he had made me anxious, that I was just worked up and couldn't help myself, but I was … wrong. I took a pregnancy test, Neal, and the reason why I threw up, why I've been avoiding everyone, and why I haven't been myself, is because I'm pregnant."

Neal was utterly silent, his face a mixture of emotions. I could see the gears in his brain churn with thought, his mind contemplating and processing everything I had said, dissecting each sentence and trying to discover the mythology behind any of the words. The facts were simple, and there was no mythology behind my being pregnant. Realization dawned on Neal, followed by worry, fear, and confusion, and then, taking me by surprise, a huge smile glowed onto his features.

I took a seat across from him on my bed and folded my legs under me. "Please talk to me," I whispered, searching his eyes for some kind of cheat-sheet to help me understand his ever-changing emotions.

That smile was still on his face as he said, "You're pregnant? Emma, you're _pregnant_! We're going to have a baby, a family! I'm … I'm going to be a … a _father_?"

"Wait … You wanna keep the baby?" I asked, the option of giving it away floating out of my brain every second I took in Neal's growing smile and his giddy voice.

"We can't let our child grow up in the foster system, always thinking that we casted him or her off because we never loved them and deemed them in a terrible fate. I know you of all people can understand how important it is to have a family, to have people in your life that love you, care about you, and want nothing but the best for you, and we don't want our child think that they weren't wanted. This child _is_ wanted, more than anything. I want this child in my arms and you by my side, living a life we always dreamed about having."

Tears clouded my vision and that weight lifted off my shoulders, leaving me with exposed skin and vulnerability that I had tried so hard to burry. Neal pulled me into his lap, cradling me in his arms as he soothed my worries with promises I knew he would always keep. I sniffled and clung to his shirt for dear life as my crying hiccupped into sobs. Everything that I had went through, not just finding out I was pregnant, but my previous life in the foster system, was rearing its ugly head and making me confront it. That was the only way to move on with my life, to fight and conquer, and I knew that I could do it now that everything was finding its rightful place.

I leaned my forehead against Neal's and murmured, "I love you so much,"

"I love you too, Emma," Neal replied with a laugh, brushing away my tears with his rough thumb and pressing his forehead against mine as the bridges of our noses touched. He paused for a minute, thinking quietly to himself, and added, "This has been eating you alive, hasn't it?"

"Well, not just that," I informed with a shrug. "I just kept thinking that when I told you about the baby, you'd hate me and want nothing to do with me. I felt like everything between you and me was gonna change and that I couldn't do anything to stop it, because, Neal … I love our life right now, every little piece about it I love. But then I reached a point where I thought we weren't progressing in our relationship, that we weren't going to be moving forward, and this happened with the baby … I was afraid of losing you, of losing everything we have."

Neal sighed and gave my hands a squeeze. "You can't live in fear, Emma. You're going to lose people you care deeply about at one point in time, and for right now, you have to enjoy what those people have to offer, what they bring to the table, and how they make you feel. But, I can assure you that you're stuck with me for a while. Nothing will get in the way of that. When you live in the constant threat about losing someone, you're bound to lose them because you're fighting too hard for them. You have to let them be their own person, to let them come to you. You can't cling to them like a koala bear and prevent them from living their life, but I understand what you're saying. And all I can do right now is tell you that our life together in the future is going to be great. We're going to be together, and nothing will change that."

I gave him a small smile and replied, "Thank you. I couldn't do this without you,"

Neal returned my smile, stood up, and with his mind swirling with thoughts, continued to say, "And since we're going to start a family together and since you can't get rid of me this easily, I want to ask _you _something now …"

Feeling around in his pockets for something, anything, to help convey his next statement to its fullest, Neal stopped for a second and slid off the tarnished golden ring he wore since the beginning of time, cupped it in his hands, and got down on one knee.

"I know the ring isn't exactly a wedding ring and it's a little big, but I figured that because we're having a baby and we're going to be together as a family, we might as well make it official … Emma Swan, will you marry me?"

Looking down at him with a wide smile and even more foreign tears filling my eyes, I nodded, in a trance, and quipped, "What do you think?"

Neal smiled back at me with his own eyes glistening, gently placed the ring on my finger, and locked our lips together. Our hearts raced, pounding inside our chests, while true love coursed through our veins and took away every doubt we might have had. The love story that had taken forever to write, wasn't ending –no, it was just beginning, and there was far more chapters that were going to be written. This is Neal Cassidy and me, Emma Swan, we're talking about.

And our story doesn't just end on chapter three.

* * *

**A/N: More to come, of course, because, like I said, this story doesn't just end on chapter three. There's a lot more in store for these characters, and I hope you all stay tuned to find out what. **

**Next time in **_**Life Is Full of Surprises**_**: a peek into the world of Regina, Mary Margaret and David's reactions towards Emma having a baby/getting married, and fun with Amanda, Lola, Kat, Christian, Josh, Neal, and Emma. **

**My love goes out to you, **

**Zander1210**


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